library | jmb

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I remembered how easy it was for Joey to read my lies and tried to channel calm when I said, "I found it at the library. It was so cold there."

She took a big whiff of me. "It smells good. Like . . ."

Joey. It smelled like Joey.

"Man," she said, and I laughed. "It smells like a guy. Like a really good-smelling guy."

"I thought the same thing when I put it on."

She sat up. "Were you terrified in there?"

I twisted the hot pink bracelet that was still tied around my wrist. "It wasn't too bad."

"You'll have to tell me all about it when you get out of here."

"I will." And I would. I'd tell her everything in a couple of weeks, when all of this had died down and everyone was done asking questions. When Jacob was out of intensive care and fine. When enough time had passed for Joey to see he wasn't going to get in trouble for this. Then I'd tell her.

At six o'clock the next morning my eyes popped open for the eleventh time since I'd closed them the night before. My mind was filling my dreams with worry. Worry about Jacob, about Joey, about my parents. My bed was too soft, too warm. The house in general felt very warm. Had my parents turned up the heat higher than normal?

I climbed out of bed, my head pounding when I stood up. I needed aspirin.

I was surprised when I found my mom sitting in the recliner in the living room, her laptop open on the arm of a chair and a legal pad on her lap. "What are you doing? Did you sleep out here?" I asked.

"No. I couldn't sleep. I'm researching the protocol on nighttime procedures for public buildings."

"Mom."

"You shouldn't have been locked in there. Every room should've been searched before the last person left."

"Mom, can you not do that?"

She sighed. "I keep thinking that I dreamed yesterday. That I'll wake up and you'll be . . ."

"You didn't. I'm here. I'm fine." I felt guilty once again for not pulling the fire alarm earlier. That's how we were eventually discovered, my mom had told me—the fire alarm. Joey must've pulled it.

I kissed the top of my mom's head, then continued on into the kitchen. "Did Owen make it back to school okay?"

"Yes, he texted me at about one a.m."

Another thing to feel guilty about—making my brother drive six hours to help search for me.

"What are you doing awake?" my mom asked.

"Couldn't sleep either. Plus it's time to get ready for school.""You're not going to school." It wasn't a question.

"I am. I feel fine and I need to get my mind off things. Plus I don't want to fall behind." I had been reaching for the bottle of aspirin while giving my speech and stopped myself short. If Mom saw me taking aspirin, she definitely wouldn't let me go. I grabbed my anxiety medication and a glass instead, just as she joined me in the kitchen.

I could practically see her having an internal fight with herself before she finally said, "Okay, but you come home if you start to feel sick or anxious at all."

My head throbbed to the rhythm of my heartbeat as I filled the glass with water from the fridge. "I will, Mom."

I hadn't anticipated the reaction that would take place when I walked into the halls of school. It was the last thing on my mind. But I should've known. My face had been all over the news and social media. I had been presumed dead. Of course the kids at school would know. I opened the door and stepped inside, and before the door had even shut behind me, a couple of people cheered and said hi.

"Hey," I answered back.

A guy from my Government class stepped in front of me. "Welcome back."

"Thanks?"

"Addison!" Cooper Black, a defensive lineman on the football team yelled. "You survived!"

"Survived?" This was going to get old very fast.

My friends were just as bad. Luna, Morgan, and Avi acted like they hadn't just seen me the day before at the hospital and smashed me into a group hug. "You came to school today! I didn't think you'd come," Luna said.

Well, that explained their reaction. Then Noah, Jeff's best friend, barreled into me. He lifted me over his shoulder and carried me down the hall yelling, "She's alive! She's alive!" His reaction confused me most of all. I thought I'd find him a mess today, since Jacob was still in critical condition, but he seemed like his normal self.

During my unasked-for ride, I caught a glimpse of Joey walking down the hall. My heart jumped into my throat and I knew he was the real reason I'd come to school today—to make sure he was okay. Just as I lifted my hand to wave, he looked away, not acknowledging me at all. By the time Noah had carried me to the end of the hall, my head was pounding even more than it had been that morning. I hit his back. "Let me down, Noah. Please."

He did, nearly plopping me on my backside in his effort. Then he gripped me by the shoulders. "We should have a Back From the Dead party this weekend on your behalf. Zombie-themed or something."

I grabbed onto both his wrists. "How are you?" I asked sincerely.

He smiled and dropped his hands back to his sides. "Awesome. Ready to celebrate."

I narrowed my eyes, wondering if he was more worried about Jacob than he was letting on. "No party for me this weekend. I just want a break."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "We'll see about that." Then he ran off, probably to start the early invites to a party I didn't want.